Your Resident Arse
by Zeplerfer
Summary: As a Resident Assistant, Arthur Kirkland is responsible for watching over the students in his dorm. Even the arrogant, annoying, aggravatingly attractive ones… College AU. USUK.
1. September to October

**Summary:** As a Resident Assistant, Arthur Kirkland is responsible for watching over the students in his dorm. Even the arrogant, annoying, aggravatingly attractive ones… College AU. USUK.

**Rating:** M for my favorite things (swearing, drinking, and smexiness).

Quick guide to American university terminology!

Resident assistant (RA) ≈ senior resident / subwarden  
Freshmen fifteen (pounds) = fresher five (kg)  
Sophomore = second-year student  
Graduate = post-graduate  
Major in = read / study

Special thank you to Fire Bear1 for betaing this story! You are wonderful :)

* * *

**Your Resident Arse**

* * *

Free food was Alfred's favorite part of the university experience. It was also the only reason that he ever bothered to attend the dorm's Wednesday meetings. During his first year, he had discovered that it was best to arrive in the dorm lounge about a half hour late so he could skip all of the dull dorm announcements and jump straight to eating. He hoped the same plan would work at his sophomore dorm.

As Alfred walked into the lounge, he frowned. It was thirty minutes into the meeting and an older blond student who had his back turned to Alfred was still talking. He seemed to be going over a long list of rules, including a ban on parties, loud noise, and alcohol. Even worse, the only food on the table were coal-black cupcakes.

"...always open if you want to talk," the student said. "And, of course, I have the master key if you get locked out. But do try to remember your own keys. Now, does anyone have any questions?"

"Yeah, what's that crap on the plate?" Alfred asked, his loud voice making everyone turn to face him. "Can we get pizza next week?"

The older student whirled around. His face froze for a second as he looked at Alfred. Then he shook his head and glared. "They're fairy cakes," he sputtered. "And I happened to make them myself."

Alfred whistled. "Dude, I hope your major ain't cooking."

"It _isn't_."

"Hah, let me guess, English?"

"Yes," the blond said icily. His tone would have warned off all but the most foolhardy. But Alfred was a complete fool and totally tone-deaf.

"Well, look, there's an easy way to solve this," Alfred said, turning to face the group of gathered residents. "Raise your hands if you want pizza next week." Dozens of hands shot into the air, and Alfred grinned in victory. Sure, he had made an enemy, but pizza was totally worth it.

When the meeting ended a few minutes later, Alfred grabbed one of the charred cakes. He crunched through the burnt outer layer and into the raw inside. Sure, it was terrible, but at least it was free. He plopped down next to his roommate on the dorm couch.

"So who was that guy anyway?" he asked.

"Arthur Kirkland. Our RA."

* * *

_To: Honda Kiku_  
_From: Arthur Kirkland_  
_Date: Thursday, September 4, 8:11pm_

_Karaoke sounds marvelous, but I'm afraid that I'm on duty this weekend. I have to make sure that my residents don't do anything stupid. Honestly, I don't know why I ever thought free housing was worth it. These undergraduates are the most ungrateful, spoiled children that I have ever met._

_Of course, you could always bring the alcohol and songs to me. Then again, I don't think that would be a good idea either. These brats would just attempt to blackmail me. And there's one in particular who's a complete pain in the arse..._

* * *

That Friday night, Alfred accepted the bottle of Captain Morgan from his friend and took a swig. After a summer under his parents' roof, he was thrilled to be back where he could drink freely, play video games whenever he wanted, and catch up with all of his friends.

World Academy prided itself on its unique rotating campus system. All classes were taught in English, but each year the school moved to a new country, giving its students an incredible opportunity to experience new cultures.

The culture Alfred was experiencing at the moment was a Friday-night-drinking culture. They had started an hour earlier and Alfred felt pleasantly buzzed. He and his friends had decided that Mario Kart was best played drunk. Under their rules, they took a drink when they hit a shell. More drinks made it harder to control the cars, leading them to hit more shells, which meant more drinks. It was an excellent feedback loop.

Alfred grinned as he swerved to avoid a shell, tossing a bomb behind him that sent a driver off the map. He whooped and pumped his fist in the air when he won the race.

Over the sound of the video game, Alfred heard someone banging on his door. He rolled his eyes. There was only one person who would be bothering him at this time on a Friday night. In just the first week he had learned that his RA, Arthur Kirkland, was an annoying, stuck-up, grouchy English graduate student who hated everyone and everything. He was a spoilsport and a killjoy, and he positively relished ruining all of Alfred's fun. He acted like everyone at school should be studying instead of having a social life.

But Alfred refused to give in. As an American, he believed in freedom, especially the freedom to party, and he swore he would do whatever he could to stop the manifest injustice of letting their despotic RA crush his treasured freedoms. And with that thought in mind, Alfred soon became the resident expert in tweaking his nose at authority and riling up Arthur (who, in turn, seemed to focus his attention on Alfred more than strictly necessary).

"Artie, isn't it past your bedtime?" Alfred asked cheerfully as he opened the door, his words barely slurred. "I hear that old guys like you need your sleep."

"Quiet hours started at 11pm," Arthur said, ignoring the insult to his age. He glared and tapped his wristwatch. "It's now 11:05."

Alfred laughed. "Yeah, but everyone's out partying. It's not like they care. I mean, come on, dude, it's just the first week!"

"Your roommate isn't partying," Arthur noted dryly, pointing to the slender brunette furiously typing at his desk, working on some essay Alfred didn't understand. "Doesn't it bother you that you're making it harder for him to study?"

"Ah, Toris doesn't mind, he's got awesome headphones." Alfred turned to his roommate and called. "Right, buddy?"

Toris didn't respond.

"See what I mean?"

At that point, Arthur's eyes latched onto the bottle of Captain Morgan. Alfred tried to step between him and the rum, but he wasn't fast enough to stop the older student. Arthur darted forward and confiscated the liquor. He smirked at Alfred and made a tsk-tsk noise. "The last time I checked, alcohol isn't allowed in the dormitories."

"Hey, you can't take that!" Alfred protested, trying to grab the bottle back, but finding it a little difficult given his tipsy state. "That's my property!"

"Well, you're certainly welcome to call up and complain to the Dean of Students. I'm sure she will be delighted to ask why an underage student had a bottle of alcohol in his possession," Arthur said cheerfully as he slipped out the door, rum in hand.

"No taking without just compensation, you know!" Alfred shouted into the hallway, knowing it was a lost cause. He slammed his door shut and plopped back on the couch. "Ugh, that guy is such an asshole," he said, conveniently ignoring his own role in their downward spiral of rude behavior.

"Yeah, resident asshole," his friend agreed.

They laughed and high-fived, and Alfred decided that it would be a great idea to replace the "Resident Assistant" nameplate on Arthur's door with a more... accurate description. He could bribe a friend in the engineering school to get access to the right engraving equipment, something that would take a few weeks. It required a bit of effort, but he knew that the end result would be perfect.

* * *

_To: Matthew Williams_  
_From: Alfred "Freeeeedom!" Jones_  
_Date: Sunday, September 7, 1:34pm_

_Hey Mattie,_

_Tuesday works for me, but we need to meet at your dorm. My RA is super anal about the quiet hours. Ugh, I can't believe I got stuck with this guy. Do you think maybe we could swap? XD_

_Actually nevermind. I have a plan to get him to leave:_

_1. Be super annoying_  
_2. Annoy him some more_  
_3. ?_  
_4. Profit!_

_Best. Plan. Ever._

_Al_

* * *

With its promise of free pizza, the second dorm meeting drew a much larger crowd. Arthur made his announcements and then glared at Alfred when the student strolled into the room at the end of the meeting and grabbed a few slices of pizza.

"Om nom, this is delicious!" Alfred said, talking with his mouth open as he chewed.

"It's a congealed mass of fat and grease. It's disgusting," Arthur replied. He scrunched his nose at the American's complete lack of manners.

Arthur kept a look of disdain on his face, but his insides churned. He had felt an instant physical attraction to the annoying American student from the moment their eyes had met at the first dorm meeting. Whenever Alfred walked down the hallway, Arthur's gaze followed, admiring the young man's broad shoulders and taut buttocks. But he absolutely couldn't act on his infatuation. As a resident assistant, it was forbidden to date a student. Pouncing on one and dragging him back to his bed was strictly verboten. Unfortunately, tamping down on that attraction just made Arthur more irritable than usual.

"Aren't you worried about the fresher five?" he snarked, letting his eyes drift to Alfred's midsection. Although so much pizza should have left a layer of pudge, he had to admit that Alfred's white shirt clung tightly to a perfect set of abs. The pizza didn't appeal to Arthur at all, but Alfred's delectable chest certainly did.

Alfred set the half-eaten pizza down and frowned. "I'm not fat," he muttered.

Sensing that his insult may have gone too far, Arthur felt a sudden conflict. RAs were taught to be sensitive to body image issues. But Alfred was an annoying brat who encouraged the other students to rebel against his authority; Arthur couldn't go soft on him or he would have a full-fledged student rebellion on his hands. Feeling resolute, Arthur crossed his arms and refused to take back his insult. He watched Alfred toss away his half-eaten pizza slice and told himself that it was for the best.

The next week, Arthur noticed that Alfred didn't attend the dorm meeting at all, leaving him with an extra box of pizza. Feeling slightly guilty, he took the box up to the second floor, planning to apologize to Alfred for calling him fat. He made it as far as Alfred's door, but lost his nerve at that point and ended up leaving the box outside.

Arthur regretted his kind gesture a few days later when he discovered Alfred's latest attempt to turn the dorm into an animal house.

The RA gasped and nearly had a heart attack when he saw the undergraduates sledding down the stairs on Saturday night. They had piled pillows, blankets, and foam mattresses on the stairs to create a slide and were riding down the soft ramp with more mattresses. Another set of mattresses lined the bottom wall to prevent them from ramming head-first into concrete. Students laughed and shouted and took turns racing up to the landing and then sliding down, acting like little children instead of young adults.

Briefly shocked into silence by the idea that smart students could do something so stupid, Arthur stood near the base of the stairs and gaped. He barely had time to recognize the approaching blond, blue-eyed blur before the mattress knocked Arthur's feet out from underneath him. Arthur flailed and landed on top of Alfred in a heap of limbs. As he caught his breath, a few thoughts passed fleetingly through Arthur's head: he noticed that Alfred's eyes looked beautifully expressive without his glasses, and he rather enjoyed the press of Alfred's firm muscles and warm body. But those thoughts were minor droplets in his ocean of anger. Because his main thought was that he was going to kill Alfred.

"Hey, Artie! Didn't see you there. Did you want to join us?" Alfred asked cheerfully, grabbing Arthur's hand and easily pulling him to his feet. They stepped out of the way as another group of students sled down the stairs.

Arthur took a deep breath. "Are all of you insane!?" he shouted, crossing his arms and glaring. "Someone could break a bone!"

The other students looked concerned, but Alfred just shrugged and grinned. "Hey, loosen up. We did this in my freshmen year dorm all the time."

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "I don't care what you did in your old dorm, I'm not allowing it here." He pitched his voice to carry: "If this mess isn't cleaned up in ten minutes there will be no more free pizza at dorm events for the rest of the year."

Alfred's eyes widened to a comical extent. He looked tempted to try defying Arthur, but he wasn't quite willing to gamble when free pizza —the staple of the university diet—was on the line. With three minutes to spare, the students finished cleaning the entire stairwell, making sure that all of the mattresses and blankets were returned to their proper places.

Alfred lifted the final foam mattress and carried it back to his room. "Asshole," he muttered under his breath as he walked past Arthur.

"And you'd best not forget it!" Arthur replied, smirking in victory. He didn't care if students hated him; it was the price he paid to maintain order in the dorm.

* * *

_To: Honda Kiku_  
_From: Arthur Kirkland_  
_Date: Tuesday, September 30, 9:03pm_

_It's terrible, Kiku. I've tried to be a good RA, but the students in my dorm are even brattier than my brothers. The worst is this arrogant Californian sophomore who seems to think that he can break any rule with impunity just because he's good-looking._

_I swear, I'm at my wits end. I've caught him with rum, forced him to turn down his music multiple times, and even had to stop him from using the stairs as a sledding ramp! I'm beginning to wonder why I ever thought that free housing was worth it._

_Sorry for the rant. Thank you for listening so patiently._

* * *

Muttering to himself about bloody annoying undergrads, Arthur filled his electric kettle with water from the sink in his bathroom. (There were some perks to having the RA's room. A private bathroom was one of them.) He continued checking his email as the water boiled and started his reading assignments as the tea steeped. Halfway through his cup, he saw a head peek into his room. Arthur kept his door open to encourage students to ask him for advice—and also to keep an eye on the hallway.

"Hello, Toris. Would you like a cup?" Arthur offered. He wondered if the quiet student wanted to escape his annoying roommate.

"If it's no trouble," Toris politely accepted a cup and a seat.

"Is there anything you wanted to talk about?" Arthur asked as they both waited for the tea to steep. "You know, if you ever have any trouble with your roommate, it would be a simple matter to get a transfer."

"Oh, no, Alfred is a great roommate!"

Arthur made a noncommittal noise, trying to hide his surprise and disbelief. He wasn't sure how to react. "You seem like an... unlikely pair," he finally replied.

As they drank their tea, Toris shared the story of his freshman year. He had initially been assigned to a 4-person room with three other Eastern European students: a Russian, an Estonian, and a Latvian. Apparently someone in the admission's office assumed that their shared border would make it easier to room together. They were wrong. Toris applied for a room transfer and was immensely grateful when he moved in with Alfred.

At first, Toris said, he thought that the American was too loud and somewhat stupid. Alfred partied every weekend, while Toris spent all of his time in the room studying, rarely leaving other than to eat food or go to class. Finally, Alfred dragged him out for a weekend ski trip, saying that he wouldn't take no for an answer. Toris was irritated (though he hid it well behind his polite exterior), but when he gave it a try he had fun and learned a new skill.

After that, their friendship blossomed. Alfred was still too loud, but he was also kind and happy-go-lucky. More importantly, he genuinely wanted to be friends. They bonded over food and Eurovision, and Toris invested in a good pair of noise-blocking headphones.

"This has honestly been the happiest part of my time at college," Toris finished.

Arthur blinked, surprised by the fond smile on the Lithuanian's face. He didn't have much time to think about it. As if their conversation had summoned him, Alfred stuck his head into the room a moment later and his gaze landed on his roommate.

"Hey, Toris! Do you remember when our CS homework is due?"

"By 11:59 tonight."

"Crap." Alfred sighed and then his eyes widened as he spotted Arthur's tea kettle. "Hey, isn't that a hot-water heater?" he asked.

"I suppose you want a cup of tea, too?" Arthur asked sarcastically. He really couldn't see Alfred as a tea-drinker. The sophomore seemed to run on coffee, energy drinks, and some unholy mixture of fat, grease and sugar.

"Nah, I can't stand that stuff." Alfred smirked. "But I'm pretty sure we're not allowed to have kitchen appliances in our rooms."

"RAs have special rules," Arthur bluffed.

"Really? I wonder what the Dean of Students would say about that..." Alfred said, slipping out of the room before Arthur had a chance to respond. Arthur could hear the American whistling all the way down the hall and the noise set his teeth on edge.

"He wouldn't," Arthur said, grinding his teeth. The whole point of drinking tea had been to calm down, but now he was more annoyed than ever. People who wanted to stay on Arthur's good side did not mess with his tea.

"Really, when you get to know him, he's very nice," Toris insisted.

Given their unpleasant encounters, Arthur found that hard to believe. The Englishman ended up sticking his electric kettle in the dorm's kitchenette, forcing him to walk down a flight of stairs whenever he wanted a cup of tea. And each time he did, he thought about how much he hated Alfred F. Jones. The loss of his tea kettle meant war.

When it came to strictly enforcing the rules, he planned to give Alfred no quarter.

* * *

_To: Matthew Williams_  
_From: Alfred "Freeeeedom!" Jones_  
_Date: Sunday, October 5, 4:34pm_

_Mattie, could you come over and help me with an essay? Please, please, please? Pretty please pancakes with maple syrup on top?_

_You're good at this stuff. I tried reading Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, but my professor keeps getting annoyed when I bring up zombies._

* * *

Essays were definitely the worst. Alfred didn't understand why everything couldn't be reduced to nice, clean code and elegant mathematical equations. He bashed his forehead against his keyboard a few times. When he looked at the results on his screen, he could tell that the brute force approach didn't work for English class.

"Still working on your essay?" Toris asked, giving him a look of concern.

"Ugh, yes."

"You should ask Mr. Kirkland for help."

Alfred laughed at the idea. "Him helping me seems about as likely as something that is very unlikely. Ugh, stupid metaphors."

"Actually, that would be a simile," Toris corrected. He eyed Alfred thoughtfully. "If you approached him with the right attitude, I think he would be receptive."

Alfred looked at the blank screen, thought about his due date (tomorrow), and decided that it was at least worth a try. He carried his laptop down the hallway to Arthur's room and gave the RA his most charming smile. He could make ladies swoon with his sunny smile, surely he could manage to get a little help from one irritable Brit.

The smile apparently didn't work. "Locked out?" Arthur asked in clipped tones.

"No. I'm having trouble with an essay."

"Well, there's a surprise," Arthur said dismissively. He turned back to his desk and continued writing.

"Geez, you don't need to be mean. I just wanted some help."

Arthur swiveled in his chair to face Alfred and gave the American a disparaging look. "And why should I help you?"

"Because you're good at this stuff?" Alfred suggested. When the compliment didn't work, he decided to try bribery. "I'll help you with math or science or something."

"One of the advantages of being a graduate student is that I no longer have to bother with courses outside my chosen field of study."

"Oh, come on, there has to be something I could offer that you want!"

Arthur's mouth opened slightly and the color rose in his cheeks. He hastily closed his mouth and turned back to face his desk, hiding his face from Alfred's view. "No," he said with a thick voice. "No there isn't."

"Never mind. I knew it was pointless to ask you." Alfred slammed Arthur's door closed as he left. He stalked past the curious onlookers in the hallway until he reached his room, and then slammed his own door for good measure.

"Done already?" Toris gave him a worried look.

"That was useless!" Alfred complained. "He's such an asshole. I'm just going to have to write this damn Pride and Prejudice essay on my own."

Thinking about how angry he was at Arthur's highfalutin attitude, Alfred pounded out the full five pages in a surprisingly short amount of time. He was even more surprised when he received an A on the essay. According to the professor, he thoroughly understood the way the main characters masked their true feelings with veiled insults.

* * *

_To: Mathew Williams_  
_From: Alfred "Freeeeedom!" Jones_  
_Date: Tuesday, October 7, 11:16pm_

_Okay, okay, sheesh. I promise to spend less time talking about my RA at the next movie night. Geez. It's not like it was one of your epic 3-hour rants._

_And dude. I don't get what you mean about pulling pigtails on the playground. My dorm doesn't even have a playground._

* * *

They lived on the same floor. So of course they ran into each other often. It wasn't like Alfred was paying extra attention to Arthur's room. He just happened to notice when a dark-haired young man knocked on Arthur's door. The guy looked pretty, with his nice clothes and delicate features, and Alfred's gaydar senses started tingling. At least, he thought it was his gaydar. He refused to believe that the unpleasant feeling in his stomach was a stab of jealousy.

He promptly walked the short distance between his room and Arthur's so he could butt into their conversation. "Hey, Artie! Is this your boyfriend?"

Arthur's visitor gave Alfred a blank look.

"Is there something you need, Alfred?" Arthur asked, sounding even more peeved than usual, which was quite an accomplishment. But Alfred noticed that he didn't deny that the other man was his boyfriend.

"Just wanted to say hi." Alfred turned towards Arthur's visitor and grinned. "You should try to get Arthur to loosen up, you know. Dude's got a huge stick up his butt."

The man just looked embarrassed and stayed silent.

"Just ignore him, Kiku. He's always this annoying," Arthur said as he gestured into his room. Once his friend was safely inside, he turned back to face Alfred and gave the American a scowl. "Could you try not to destroy the dorm in the next hour? I need to help my friend with his essay." He didn't wait for Alfred's answer before shutting the door in his face.

"How come he gets essay help?" Alfred muttered to himself, wondering why his stomach clenched as he watched the door close. Despite Arthur's innocent explanation, he'd seen enough gay porn to know that 'tutoring' was a common excuse to get into the same room and have sex. He shook his head, and decided that he was just jealous because Arthur was getting some and he wasn't.

Yes, he told himself, that was definitely the reason.

* * *

_To: Honda Kiku_  
_From: Arthur Kirkland_  
_Date: Saturday, October 11, 9:41am_

_Thank you, but no._

_I have no clue how you even got that idea into your head. I was just annoyed and had to rant a bit, that's all. You're seeing something that isn't there, I assure you._

* * *

To work on his master's thesis, Arthur needed absolute concentration. Taking Toris's advice, he invested in a good pair of ear plugs, which helped a bit in blocking out the everyday noises of dorm life. He really didn't know how the other students managed to finish their work in such noisy conditions.

Sipping his tea and typing furiously, Arthur let his ideas bloom in black and white on the computer screen. He was making amazing progress, capturing larger and more complex ideas as his fingers danced across the keyboard. He was in a state of perfect writing flow, the authorial Nirvana that all writers sought and few achieved. With just a few more pages, he could take his essay to a completely new level,

He smashed the keyboard as loud pounding on his door pulled him out of the zone.

Grumbling to himself about needy undergrads, Arthur opened his door and tried to paint a pleasant look on his face instead of the murderous rage he felt inside. His RA position provided a decent wage and free room and board, so he didn't want to mess it up.

His smiled disappeared as soon as he saw that Alfred was the one outside his door. But his face warmed and his stomach did a pleasant flip as he realized that Alfred was wearing only a towel. His eyes dropped down to take in Alfred's perfect tanned abs and lean hipbones. The young man's skin glistened from his recent shower. Arthur tried not to stare at the towel wrapped loosely around Alfred's waist. He thought the knot holding the towel in place looked a little loose. Or perhaps that was just wishful thinking.

"... locked me out."

"Hmm?"

"My roommate locked me out," Alfred repeated.

Arthur finally pulled his gaze back to Alfred's face, noticing for the first time that the young man looked years younger without his glasses. "Ah, of course," he replied quickly, reaching for the master key hanging next to his door.

"What, no insults?"

"It goes without saying that you're an idiot."

"Yeah, yeah," Alfred said, shifting from foot to foot as he impatiently waited for Arthur to unlock his door. The towel parted slightly, revealing muscular thighs. Arthur's master key scraped across the door before he realized that he hadn't inserted the key into the slot. He tried again, and this time succeeded in opening the door.

"And you really ought to remember to keep your key with you when showering," Arthur groused, although it was just for show. He wouldn't actually mind if Alfred got locked out during every shower and appeared at his door half-naked and dripping. With that thought in mind, Arthur returned to his room and plopped onto his bed.

After several minutes spent staring blankly at the screen, he realized it would be impossible to return to working on his thesis, especially with the image of Alfred's glistening torso in his mind. He closed the file and booted up his erotica folder. Perhaps if he couldn't quite find it in himself to truly hate the noisy, insufferable undergrad, he could find a better use for him instead. As a different sort of muse.

* * *

_To: Matthew Williams_  
_From: Alfred "Freeeeedom!" Jones_  
_Date: Sunday, October 19, 3:20pm_

_I swear, I think he has something planned. He's always watching me and he keeps giving me these strange looks in the hallway._

_It's okay though, I have a plan of my own. Check it out!_

_[Picture of "Resident Asshole" nameplate]_

* * *

"Did you see the new sign?" one of Alfred's dormmates asked, giving him a sly glance as they walked down the hallway. With the constant insults that flew between the two young men, most people instantly realized who had taken down the "Resident Assistant" sign and replaced it with a new-and-improved "Resident Asshole" sign.

Alfred grinned and shrugged. "Seems pretty accurate to me," he replied.

"I think it would be better if you had spelt 'arsehole' properly."

Alfred spun around to find Arthur standing behind him with an unamused expression. He felt a moment of panic, but he refused to show Arthur that he was worried about getting caught. After all, no one could prove that he had done it, and Arthur deserved it anyway. Alfred shrugged and smirked.

"Y'know, Artie, if you want to learn how not to be an arsehole, you should take lessons from my cousin's RA. She's super nice. Plus, she has amazing gozongas!"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I'm dreadfully sorry that I can't conform to your heterosexist ideals. Unless you want me to dress like Eddie Izzard, I'm afraid you're shit out of luck."

"Pfft. You'd be offering both cake and death. Death cakes!" Alfred retorted.

"Did you just quote Eddie Izzard?" Arthur actually looked impressed.

"Of course! I love cross-dressing British comedians." Alfred's grin widened. "Oh man, we should have a Halloween costume party for the dorm! You can be Izzy."

Arthur arched an eyebrow. "Thank you, no, I'd rather not deal with drunken students destroying the lounge. If you want a party, plan it yourself—"

"Killjoy."

"—and make sure it ends by 11pm. Quiet hours, remember." Arthur turned and walked away. A few steps later he turned around and added, "And absolutely no alcohol!"

* * *

_To: Honda Kiku_  
_From: Arthur Kirkland_  
_Date: Sunday, October 20, 8:47pm_

_Look who has a well-made new nameplate, courtesy of my aggravating undergraduates. I must admit, I rather like it._

_Truly, it's better to be feared than loved._

_[Picture of Arthur standing next to "Resident Asshole" nameplate]_

* * *

For most of America, Halloween was a holiday for children. Parents took their tykes trick-or-treating for candy, and the kids ate themselves sick the next day.

On a university campus, however, it was a night of unrivaled debauchery. Students dressed up in the most revealing and sexy costumes imaginable and partied into the night. Arthur tried to act like a straight-laced student, but secretly he loved the wild parties. His favorite was a party hosted by the university's LGBT organization. It had started off as a masked costume party years ago when more students were in the closet, giving them a chance to unwind in secrecy. Although the masks were no longer necessary, the tradition had stuck. It was a perfect opportunity to show off his amazing body and find a different outlet for his Alfred-induced irritation.

He sauntered in the front door wearing his skimpy angel outfit and grinned at the other party-goers. He loved to see the naked lust that his costume attracted. Everyone loved long legs and a short toga. A white mask covered the upper portion of his face and his most distinguishing features—his eyebrows. He had even taken the ruse a step further and dyed his hair bright red. Like the Doctor, he had always dreamed of being a ginger.

As he made his way through the hot and sweaty bodies, Arthur let his gaze travel across the room until it landed on a very handsome, half-naked man wearing a black mask and a cape. Arthur didn't much care for comics, but even he recognized the Caped Crusader. The cape swirled, giving Arthur a good view of the young man's chiseled abs and strong legs. He was perfect; just what Arthur had come hoping to find.

Arthur strode closer, smirking as saw the other man stare back with lust. "Hello, there," he said seductively, faking an American accent to further his disguise. "Might I have this dance?" he asked politely. Even as an angel, he was still a gentleman.

"The dark knight loves dancing," the young man responded in a gravelly voice. Up close, Arthur could see that his eyes were a clear blue. Arthur would never admit it, but he had a weakness for baby blues.

Arthur pulled 'Batman' onto the dance floor. He normally refused to dance anything other than proper ballroom dancing. But for tonight he made an exception. It wasn't really dancing anyway... not when the students around him were basically dry-humping to the beat of a Lady Gaga song. It was just a prelude to other nighttime activities. Arthur wanted to forget for the night that he was attracted to a stupid, irritating, annoying, aggravating, vexing undergrad. If he couldn't forget with alcohol, he could at least find a willing substitute on the dance floor.

'Batman' proved surprisingly shy at first, although Arthur eventually coaxed him closer. After a song's worth of almost-touching, sexy dancing, and lustful looks, Arthur was ready for more. He turned around and ground his ass into the other man's crotch. He smirked as the taller student responded by grabbing his hips possessively.

Arthur liked the firm press of the other man against him, enjoying the hands running up and down his sides, lifting up his toga and caressing his thighs. Arthur rotated within the circle of the other man's arms, slipping his knee between the other man's legs and pressing upward. The other man shivered in anticipation, and Arthur was half-tempted to just take him right there on the dance floor. He was saved from making the decision as the man pulled him toward the stairs.

They tumbled in to the first empty bedroom, and Arthur found himself slammed against the wall. The wings on his costume fell off, crashing to the floor. Arthur smirked, thinking that it was a nice metaphor for what they were about to do. Then the other man lifted him up by his ass, and Arthur stopped thinking at all. He wrapped his legs around the man and sucked his neck.

"Oh, yeah. Batman makes the good angels go bad," the man said, panting slightly, a smile on his swollen lips. His husky voice sounded oddly familiar, but Arthur couldn't place it. The man carried Arthur to the futon, setting him down and slipping the toga strap from Arthur's shoulder. With one knee pressed between Arthur's legs, he leaning forward to lick Arthur's exposed nipple. Arthur moaned and arched his back against the futon.

Batman reached for Arthur's mask, and Arthur maintained enough presence of mind to grab both hands and push them away. "No, leave it on."

"Oooh, kinky. So, angel, how do you want to do this? Hand job, blow job, the Italian Job?" Batman asked casually, his voice still gravelly.

"I don't think... I'm familiar with an Italian job," Arthur admitted, still trying to gather his thoughts and maintain a fake American accent, a rather difficult process given the half-naked young man straddling his lap.

Batman grinned. "It's a movie. That's where we go back to my room and make out while watching a movie."

Arthur shook his head. He didn't want to wander over to a strange dorm in his skimpy angel costume. "Blow jobs," he decided. He pushed Batman down onto the futon and turned around on his knees so that he was facing the young man's legs. "Lift your hips," he demanded, pulling off Batman's boxers as the young man complied with his request. Lowering his butt so that it was in the other man's face, Arthur kneeled forward and licked the salty skin. He breathed deeply, enjoying the masculine musk.

"The Dark Knight rises," Batman moaned. He stopped making silly movie puns once Arthur lowered his mouth onto his cock. Arthur was so enthralled by the warm cock twitching in his mouth that he barely noticed as Batman pulled down his own underwear and returned the favor. They pleasured each other in the 6-9 position, building to a climax as the room filled with the sound of throaty moans, underscored by the sound of the bass on the dance floor below. Arthur jolted in pleasure and felt his vision dim along the edges. The release of his pent up sexual tensions filled him with a haze of pleasure. He managed to stay on his knees long enough to swallow and then collapsed on top of the other man. The warm, firm muscles quivered marvelously underneath him.

Before they had time to catch their breath, another kissing couple entered the room and Batman jerked upright in surprise, sending them both toppling to the floor. Scrambling to his feet, Arthur frantically pulled up his underwear and fixed his toga. He breathed a sigh of relief to find the mask still safely secured to his face.

Batman wasn't so lucky. He blushed as he retrieved his boxers and picked up his mask from the floor. Seeing the identity of his one-night stand, Arthur raced out of the room and ignored the shouts from behind. He escaped the party, returned to his dorm in record time, and furiously scrubbed the temporary red dye out of his hair.

Of all the people, in all the world, it had to be Alfred_..._


	2. November to December

Alfred felt like he was floating on a cloud. His _very_ enjoyable Halloween night had left with him with pleasant dreams. And although he wished the other man had stayed to chat (Alfred didn't like to think of himself as a "blow and go" kind of guy), he understood why his pretty angel had been too embarrassed to stick around after they were interrupted.

Whistling cheerfully to himself, Alfred stepped into the shower and washed away the sticky remnants of his wonderful dreams. He gave himself a few more rubs than necessary, closing his eyes as he imagined every touch and caress from the night before. The other guy had been exactly his sort: those gorgeous long legs and a trim frame, but with a hidden strength underneath that lean body. He imagined the fiery angel showing up and demanding back the wings that Alfred had tossed into his closet.

Naturally they would begin to kiss and undress, stumbling over to Alfred's tiny bed, pulling each other closer and closer with each passionate touch. All it took to send Alfred over the edge was the thought of his angel's soft, clever hands jerking him off.

Alfred cleaned himself up (again) and hoped that no one in the shared bathroom had heard his moans of pleasure. He liked dorm life, but it would be nice to have a private bathroom again so he could jerk off to his heart's content. (And also sing Disney songs, but not at the same time, _obviously_.)

Lost in thought, Alfred wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped into the hallway. He didn't even notice Arthur posting a flyer on the bulletin board until he nearly ran into him. The RA yelped, dropping the flyer as he stumbled back a few steps.

For some reason, Arthur looked more worried than angry, but everyone told Alfred that he wasn't good at reading the atmosphere, so he was probably just imagining it.

"Hey Artie. Posting more rules?"

Arthur bent down to pick up the flyer. "Ski trip," was his only explanation as he pinned the paper to the bulletin board. It announced the details for the Thanksgiving ski trip and encouraged residents to sign up quickly.

"Cool! Are you going too or is it gonna be a fun trip?" Alfred asked, trying to rile up his RA, since it was _weird_ to see Arthur acting so subdued. Arthur should have been pissing and moaning about Alfred nearly running into him in the hallway, instead he seemed to be avoiding Alfred's gaze. Alfred had to actually wave a hand in front of his face to get the RA's attention. "Dude, Earth to Arthur."

"Hmm?" Arthur glanced up. His green eyes looked a little lost.

Alfred shoved aside something that felt like worry and reminded himself to focus on his important question. "I can't decide if I'm going until I know if you're going."

"Going where?"

"Uh, ski trip," Alfred jerked his thumb toward the flyer. "Are you okay, Arthur?"

Arthur's expression finally returned to normal as he gave Alfred a half-hearted glare. "I'm fine and of course I'm going. Someone needs to make sure you follow the rules."

"Man, you're no fun," Alfred complained. He stuck out his tongue at Arthur and then continued walking back to his room.

Pushing the strange encounter with Arthur out of his mind, Alfred spent the afternoon hunting on Facebook for red-haired, green-eyed men. He wanted to find his angel and he was hopeful he'd spot the guy based on looks alone. True, most of the guy's face had been covered by a mask, but he had some of the prettiest, most expressive eyes Alfred had ever seen. He discovered more redheads than he expected, but no one that struck him as the right match. When Matt finally shot him an email suggesting a movie and leftover Halloween candy, Alfred was more than happy to give up his search for the day.

He whistled as he left the dorm and didn't even notice that he forgot his room key.

* * *

_To: Honda Kiku_  
_From: Arthur Kirkland_  
_Date: Saturday, November 1, 9:58pm_

_Kiku, I need to talk. Bring alcohol._

* * *

Arthur didn't wait for Kiku. Instead, he dug out the bottle of rum he had confiscated from Alfred back in September and started drinking on his own. When he heard Kiku's polite knock, he set down the bottle and opened the door.

"Are you all right, Arthur-san?" his friend asked with a concerned expression. "Did you not like the costume I made?"

"The costume was great. Worked great! Worked too well." Arthur tilted back his head and laughed. He recounted the story for Kiku, all while guzzling his rum and growing progressively morose as he described his forbidden one-night stand with his resident. Arthur hiccupped and looked ready to cry; he was going to lose his job and his housing and probably get kicked out of school. "And I lost the wings."

"Don't worry about the wings," Kiku reassured him.

Arthur leaned back on the bed and frowned. "I should tell him." He immediately shook his head. "No, he would just be a jerk. He's such a wanker." He stood up suddenly and walked in a uneven line to the door. "Yes, I'll tell him."

Kiku reached for his arm and pulled him back onto the bed. "Arthur-san, I think you should go to bed. Drunken confessions rarely end well."

Arthur nodded and let Kiku help him into his pirate-themed pajamas. While Arthur drank a glass of water, Kiku found the aspirin and set it on the desk where Arthur would be able to find it easily the next morning. Then, in the interest of protecting the poor, innocent undergraduates from the terror of a drunken Arthur, Kiku carefully hid the remainder of the rum next to the toga costume underneath the bed.

Alfred passed Kiku on the staircase, and he thought that the Asian man gave him a strange look, but he pushed it out of his head. He was still happily stuffed from leftover Halloween candy. Alfred walked past Arthur's door (smiling as he saw the "Resident Asshole" nameplate) and reached for his own door handle. He groaned as he remembered that he had forgotten his keys in the room. He really needed to be better about keeping track of them. He knocked on the door, but Toris didn't answer, which probably meant that the Lithuanian was hanging out with his strange girlfriend on the other end of campus.

Sighing, Alfred walked back to the middle of the hallway. He knocked loudly on Arthur's door. "Hey, Artie, I'm locked out," he called, not caring if he had to wake up his RA to get back into his room. It was Arthur's fault for going to bed before midnight anyway. What sort of college student went to bed early?

At first Alfred heard no response, so he knocked louder. He paused to pull out his cell phone, wondering if he was going to have to call Toris. At that moment, he heard a soft moan from behind the door. It sounded exactly like the ghost from his most recent horror-movie marathon. Alfred yelped and raced to the end of the hallway. He leaned against the wall and whimpered, trying not to think about what happened to everyone in the movie who heard the dead girl's moan. Wait, what if Arthur was in there with the ghost? No matter how much his RA annoyed him sometimes, Alfred had to be a hero and go rescue the poor man!

Gathering every ounce of his courage, he returned to find the door slightly ajar. Alfred pushed the door open and hit the lights. Someone had been leaning against the door and they were knocked down to the floor. Alfred gaped, realizing that the figure sprawled on the floor was a person, not a ghost. In fact, it was Arthur.

Arthur moaned again, but this time Alfred didn't shriek in terror. Instead he continued to stare in shock, surprised to discover that Arthur owned a set of skull-and-crossbones pajamas. Leaning forward, he could smell a strong whiff of rum on the Brit's breath as he helped the other man to his feet.

"Was that my rum?" Alfred asked. "Where's it all gone?" he demanded, even though he knew the answer. His rum had obviously gone into Arthur's gut.

"You're too loud," the RA groaned. "Bloody knocking."

Alfred gripped Arthur's elbow and gently pushed the swaying student onto his bed. "Are you drunk?" he asked, still shocked by the sight.

"No I'm not! I'm your bloody RA, I am."

"Uh-huh." Alfred chuckled. Ignoring Arthur's drunken cries of protest, he turned around and reached for the master key so he could unlock his room.

"Stop that! No taking. No dating. No tea kettles. Bleeding rules," Arthur complained. He wobbled to his feet and reached for the master key.

Alfred pushed Arthur back down onto his bed. "Look, I'll be right back, okay? You just stay here and try not to puke on anything."

Using the master key, Alfred unlocked the door and dropped off his backpack. This time he made triple-sure that he had his own keys before closing the door. When he finally returned to Arthur's room, he found Arthur sleeping like a baby, face down on the bed. Alfred shut the door and smirked, thinking of all the fun pranks he could play. He could draw naughty pictures on Arthur's face, duct-tape him to the wall, or even shave off one of his monstrous eyebrows. It was the perfect opportunity.

Alfred found a pen on the desk and debated what he wanted to draw on the other student and where. A twirly moustache was always funny, and he liked drawing penises on the unsuspecting. For Arthur, additional eyebrows seemed like a good idea, although there wasn't much room left on his forehead for more brows.

But each time Alfred had an idea and leaned forward to start drawing, he found he couldn't actually do it. His pen froze at least an inch away from Arthur's pale skin. It was fun to tease Arthur and watch him get riled up, but Arthur was just laying there right now, looking vulnerable and... almost cute.

A wave of confusion rolled over Alfred. Heroes were expected to rebel against the evil Empire (like Luke Skywalker fighting against Darth Vader!), but at the moment Arthur looked less like a villain and more like someone in need of a hero.

Alfred realized that he just couldn't do it. He couldn't play a prank on his drunken RA.

Deciding that he would set aside their grudge match for the night, Alfred left the room and quickly returned with his laptop so he could play games while drunk-sitting. Thankfully, he had enough experience with drunks to know what to do. He rolled Arthur onto his side and placed the trash bin next to the bed, rousing him every half hour to make sure the older student hadn't slipped into unconsciousness. He knew he'd made the right choice when he saw the bleary green eyes giving him an affectionate look.

"Alfred?" his RA murmured. "Don't tell. Please."

"I won't," Alfred promised. He wasn't going to get Arthur into trouble just for getting drunk. He wasn't that mean. Alfred brushed his fingers through Arthur's hair and when he realized what he was doing, pulled his fingers back like he had been stung. When had he started to think of his RA as _cute_?

After a couple hours of no puking and Arthur's steady breathing, Alfred decided that Arthur would be okay for the night. He closed the door quietly behind him, lost in a swirl of thoughts and confused emotions that kept him up for the rest of the night.

* * *

_To: Matthew Williams_  
_From: Alfred F. Jones_  
_Date: Sunday, November 2, 3:37am_

_Shit I think I just realized what you meant about pigtails on the playground…_

* * *

The next morning Arthur's alarm sounded like a banshee from hell, echoing painfully in his pounding head. He knocked it off the table and groaned into his pillow.

"Urgh."

Was it Monday? His early morning Shakespeare class definitely wasn't going to happen. Not when, in the Bard's immortal words, he felt like he was going to die, die, die. Through his half-closed eyes, Arthur spotted the advil and glass of water on the table and silently thanked Kiku for his thoughtfulness. After taking the pills, he collapsed back onto his pillow and gratefully returned to sleep.

Arthur woke up again around noon, feeling marginally better, particularly when he remembered that it was Sunday, giving him a full day to recover. He brushed his teeth to get rid of the nasty taste and then went down to the dorm dining hall, deciding that he could probably manage a slice of toast. He picked a quiet corner and ate his food in peace.

"Hey, Artie! How's it going?" a loud, irritating voice said directly next to his ear.

Arthur spilled his tea on the table and groaned. "Just ducky," he rasped. He glanced at Alfred and frowned. "You look terrible too," he noted, spotting dark bags under Alfred's eyes. Arthur thought he vaguely remembered something about Alfred and a lock-out the night prior, but his memories were too fuzzy to make any sense. He decided that he was simply thinking of one of the many times when Alfred had forgotten his key and needed Arthur to let him back into his room.

The American laughed far too loudly. "I just stayed up too late playing video games. But you look hungover, which is weird 'cuz the rules forbid alcohol," he said, his eyes sparkling with exaggerated innocence.

"I have the flu," Arthur lied, coughing a few times for added effect.

Alfred leaned forward and pressed the back of his hand against Arthur's forehead. "That's odd, you don't feel warm to me."

Arthur jerked backward with an undignified squawk and nearly fell out of his chair. His cheeks flamed red (the unfortunate side-effect of pale skin). For some reason, Alfred took that as an invitation to test his temperature again.

"Huh, I guess you do feel a bit warm. Better stay away from you and your germs."

"That would be a good idea," Arthur muttered. He hoped that the aggravatingly attractive, younger student would stay far, far away.

* * *

_To: [LGBT-listserv]_  
_From: Alfred F. Jones_  
_Date: Sunday, November 2, 2:40pm_

_Hey all!_

_If you're missing a pair of angel wings from the Halloween Party, shoot me an email!_

_Al_

* * *

After his restless night, Alfred had come to a few important realizations.

First, his RA actually knew how to party and was not the joyless scrooge Alfred had always imagined him to be. Alfred decided to pull back on his pranks. But not too much or else Arthur would become suspicious.

Second, Alfred was willing to admit that Arthur was a bit cute and that he was maybe _slightly_ attracted to the other man. But it wasn't anything serious. Alfred was just suffering from too many hormones after his Halloween tryst and that was why, in a moment of weakness, he had carded his fingers through Arthur's soft locks. He resolutely brushed aside any and all thoughts of how adorable Arthur had looked curled up in his pirate pajamas.

Third, Alfred needed to find his angel from the Halloween Party. Their meeting had been fate. It was just like Cinderella, but with more blow jobs. So all he needed to do was return the wings to his Prince Charming and they would live happily ever after. (Okay, yes, it was Cinderella who received the shoe, not the Prince. Alfred wasn't good at metaphors or similes or whatever.) The important part was that it would help him get his mind off Arthur.

Fourth, Alfred apparently watched too many Disney movies.

* * *

_To: Alfred Jones_  
_From: Flying Mint Bunny_  
_Date: Monday, November 3, 9:03am_

_Dear Alfred,_

_I saw your email on the LGBT listserv and was hoping to arrange a drop-off for the angel wings. I don't want to inconvenience you at all, so if you could just set them in a box outside your room and send me your dorm name and number, I'll have a friend pick them up. Thank you in advance._

* * *

Alfred's face lit up when he spotted the email, but fell again as he read through the short message. His one-night stand from Halloween hadn't offered a name or any identifying information. Whatever a 'flying mint bunny' was, it meant nothing to Alfred.

Disappointed, Alfred immediately shot back his reply.

* * *

_To: Flying Mint Bunny_  
_From: Alfred Jones_  
_Date: Monday, November 3, 11:53am_

_Hey Bunny,_

_Sorry, dude, no can do. I want to meet you again! And maybe we could get coffee? I respect if you want to leave a one-night stand as a ONE night stand, but I still want a name to go with your angelic face._

_I'm happy to arrange a clandestine meeting if you prefer, and we can have a codeword and disguises if you want! Actually, that'd be pretty cool. But I'm not handing the wings back until I at least know your name._

_Don't worry. I promise that I won't tell anyone if you don't want me to :)_

_Al_

* * *

Alfred waited and waited for a reply, but when it finally came, it left him even more disappointed than before.

* * *

_To: Alfred Jones_  
_From: Flying Mint Bunny_  
_Date: Tuesday, November 4, 8:49pm_

_Never mind. You may keep them._

* * *

For the next few weeks, Arthur was determined to avoid Alfred, but it seemed that Alfred was equally determined to annoy him at every opportunity. The sophomore started attending all of the weekly dorm meetings, taking the opportunity to eat a ridiculous amount of pizza and ask embarrassing questions.

"Hey, Artie, aren't you supposed to give us free condoms?" he asked at one meeting.

"There's a clearly marked bowl outside my room," Arthur replied.

Alfred grinned. "Yeah, but they're the wrong size. I need extra-large ones."

Arthur felt a traitorous warmth rise in his cheeks. He tried to think about cold showers and the fact that he would lose his free housing if he pulled Alfred into his room, tugged down the young man's pants, and _proved_ that the condom fit perfectly. "I know that you're an enormous prick," Arthur grumbled once he regained control, "but I assure you, the ones we have now will be plenty large."

When the meeting ended, Arthur escaped back to his room with barely concealed relief. He closed the door and let his head thud against the wood. A few more thumps allowed him to clear his head, although he didn't feel any better. He had thought he could handle his infatuation with the annoying student. But infatuation had grown from a passing fancy into full-blown lust. Now he worried that he would do something regrettable if given the chance. If Alfred ever found out... Arthur didn't know what would happen, but it certainly wouldn't be good. RAs weren't even allowed to date their students and he had already gone far beyond dating.

Arthur did, however, get some small measure of revenge at the next dorm meeting by telling Alfred that he had custom-ordered his size and then tossing Alfred a box of extra-small condoms. The look on Alfred's face had been priceless.

* * *

_To: Flying Mint Bunny_  
_From: Alfred F. Jones_  
_Date: Sunday, November 16, 4:28pm_

_Hey Angel,_

_I hope it's not creepy to send you another email, but I've been staring at your wings for the past week and I just can't get you out of my head. Your lovin' is all I think about... sorry, got too much Kylie on my playlist. (See what you've made me do! I've been listening to pop love ballads all week!)_

_You seemed pretty social when we met, so I was just wondering if I said or did something wrong? Can I make it up to you? I thought you enjoyed it at the time, but... yeah._

_I hope you respond._

_Al_

* * *

Arthur stared at the email and sighed, unsure how to respond to the strangely tentative email. This wasn't the tone of the brash American sophomore that he thought he knew. The knowledge of what he had done with one of his residents weighed heavily on his conscience. And even though it was wrong and definitely against the rules, the worst part was that he would do it again if given half a chance.

Even though Alfred was a brat, Arthur felt bad for making the undergrad believe that it was his fault. He decided to assuage the American's guilt with a plausible lie. Something that would definitively convince Alfred to leave him alone. And even though it went against everything he believed in, he even used American spellings to maintain his charade.

* * *

_To: Alfred F. Jones_  
_From: Flying Mint Bunny_  
_Date: Monday, November 17, 8:31am_

_I apologize. I'm not interested in further communication for reasons completely unrelated to you. I was cheating on my boyfriend and have promised him that I wouldn't attempt to contact you._

* * *

Alfred stared at his phone screen, his mouth hanging open in shock. He'd barely made it to class in time and he hoped the other students hadn't noticed him checking his email. He shut his mouth, slipped his phone underneath his desk, and shot back a quick reply. It seemed that he had dodged a bullet—his angel was actually an asshole.

* * *

_To: Flying Mint Bunny_  
_From: Alfred F. Jones_  
_Date: Monday, November 17, 10:02am_

_Wow... you really ain't much of an angel are you? o.0_

* * *

As the weather turned cold, flu season hit the dorm hard.

The advantage of having a diverse student body from all around the world was that they could share cultures and ideas. The disadvantage was that they also shared germs. By the middle of November, nearly everyone had the sniffles.

Alfred was the first to start coughing, and from him it spread everywhere. Doing his best to take care of his dorm, Arthur shared his tea supply with those who wanted it and sent out emails reminding everyone to get a good nights' sleep and drink plenty of liquids. He felt like a nursemaid as he raced around the dorm, checking on his residents and helping them ask professors for extensions or make appointments at the health center.

After a few days, Arthur plopped into his own bed, feeling sick and exhausted. It seemed that every young adult regressed into a whiny child when they were sick. He just wished that they wouldn't keep turning to him for assistance. His whole body ached and all he wanted to do was stay in bed for the rest of the day.

In his warm cocoon of blankets, Arthur napped for a few hours before a light knocking at his door pulled him out of pleasant dreams. "Come in," he called hoarsely, hoping that it wasn't another needy student. When he saw that it was just Alfred, he curled deeper into his blankets and muttered, "If you're locked out, just take the master key. I'm too tired."

"Nah, I'm not locked out. Toris wanted some tea."

"He can have it." Arthur waved toward his tea collection on the bookshelf and buried his face into his pillow. His body felt like one huge ache, alternating between chills and fever as he drifted in a light doze. Also, his brain felt like it was stuffed with cotton, so it took him a few minutes to recognize the sound of a tea kettle boiling. He was still trying to figure out how the kettle returned to his room when he heard the clink of a mug being set down on his desk. He looked up with bleary eyes. "Brought my kettle back?"

Alfred chuckled. "Yeah, you look like crap, so you probably need it."

Despite the insult, Arthur was touched by the gesture. He reached for the cup and sipped the hot liquid. It was a little over-steeped, but a surprising kindness nonetheless. He tried to think about what it meant that Alfred's annoying behavior had tapered off significantly, but lost the train of thought as he drifted back to sleep.

* * *

_To: [All dorm residents]_  
_From: Arthur Kirkland_  
_Date: Friday, November 21, 10:15am_

_Final reminder! Today is the last day to sign up for the Thanksgiving Break ski trip. The bus will leave at 3pm on Friday and return by 10pm on Saturday. If you have not yet paid your deposit, please slip a cheque under my door._

* * *

World Academy followed the American educational calendar, so students received their Thanksgiving Break in November. However, many students felt that the Wednesday to Sunday break was too short to justify a trip home, so dorms organized their own trips for the students who chose to stay behind. With his impressive organizational skills, Arthur had planned a ski trip for the dorm, arranging transportation, lodging, and lessons for anyone who wanted to try skiing or snowboarding for the first time.

Somewhat to Arthur's surprise, Alfred signed up for the trip at the last minute. He wasn't surprised that the American waited until the last minute, but he was surprised that Alfred had decided to come on the trip after all. Arthur shrugged and remembered to pack his noise-canceling headphones for the bus ride. He would surely need them.

As Arthur expected, Alfred was incredibly loud on the bus as the students made the four-hour trip to the nearest ski lodge. The sophomore laughed and shouted, drawing the other students into long games of 20 questions and kill-fuck-marry. Although Arthur had been diligently working on his dissertation, he slipped one headphone off of his left ear when he heard his name.

"—ur Kirkland, Groucho Marx, Helga Pataki."

"So many eyebrows!" Alfred tilted back his head and laughed hard.

"I was just coming up with a matching set."

"Well, I'm not interested in fucking or marrying a girl, so goodbye Helga. And I can't marry a communist, so fuck Groucho and marry Arthur."

"Really?"

"Well, obviously the trick would be to keep him out of the kitchen."

They all had a good laugh at that. Arthur frowned as he pushed the headphone back over his ear and tried to pretend that he hadn't been listening.

The noisy bus ride was bad enough, but chaos reigned supreme as soon as they arrived at the ski lodge the dorm had rented for the night. It was built for large groups, so it had three floors, tons of bedrooms, and even more couches. Even with the size of their group, however, there would still be a few unfortunates stuck sleeping on the floor.

They had stopped for dinner at some atrocious fast food restaurant, and the tables and floors were soon littered with wrappers and small pieces of food. Arthur spent the next hour racing around the lodge, confiscating bottles of alcohol and trying to stop young adults from jumping on the beds and building pillow forts. Exhausted, he took a quick breather on one of the living room couches, pushing his sweaty hair off of his forehead and wondering if he needed to worry about the neighbors reporting them to the police because they were just so loud. At least this room was quiet, it was just him and Toris.

"Why do they even make tellies that large?" Arthur mused, staring at the large-screen hanging on the wall. Next to it stood a large movie collection.

"Something to do during a blizzard," Toris suggested.

"That's what books are for. Books and tea."

Toris smiled. "I was going to make tea, would you like some too?"

"Yes, please," Arthur replied, grateful for his kindness. Toris was such a nice, well-behaved student. The complete opposite of his aggravating roommate. And speak of the devil... not long after Toris left, Alfred sauntered into the living room, sipping a beer even though he was still two years underage. "You shouldn't be drinking that," Arthur muttered, although he felt too tired to bother with his usual scowl.

Alfred laughed and plopped down on the couch, stretching out his legs so his feet rested on the coffee table. He offered a bottle to Arthur and continued sipping his own beer. "Admit it, you think 21 is a stupid drinking age."

"I could lose my job if my residents break the law," Arthur said, pushing away the unopened beer bottle.

"Pfft. No one's going to report you. What happens at ski lodge stays at ski lodge," Alfred said reassuringly, waving at his roommate as the quiet student rejoined them in the living room, setting a tea cup near Arthur and retreating to the other couch with his own. "Right, Toris?"

Toris nodded and sipped his tea.

"My residents won't report it, but the neighbors might," Arthur noted, picking up his cup and talking a sip. He thanked Toris for brewing it perfectly.

"Geez, Artie, you're such a worrywart. This is supposed to be a fun break for you too, right? Let's go play in the snow!"

"It's freezing outside."

"Yeah, that's kind of the point of ski trip! Do you wanna build a snowman? We could use your scones for eyes."

Toris hid a smile behind his tea cup.

Ignoring the jab at his cooking, Arthur pulled himself off the couch. He could hear loud music starting to play from the kitchen. He sighed. "They sent you down here to keep me occupied, didn't they?"

Alfred grinned. Instead of answering the question he changed the subject. "Okay, no playing in the snow tonight. How 'bout a movie instead?"

"I'm supposed to be making sure you're not all getting into trouble," Arthur replied sternly, though the idea of watching a movie sounded much better than trying to stop the undergrads from drinking. Even the dedicated Englishman recognized that the effort was a lost cause. Plus, Alfred was being surprisingly nice, and Arthur didn't see any harm in watching a movie together. They even had Toris to act as a chaperone.

"Wouldn't the efficient thing be to watch me, since I'm the main troublemaker?"

Arthur paused at the door. "That's... a good point."

"And I'll let you pick the movie."

"Deal." Arthur flipped through the collection, wrinkling his nose at most of the choices. He paused at one of the titles, which seemed familiar. "The Italian Job," he murmured, trying to remember where he had heard it.

"Hey, good choice! I've been meaning to watch that. Sound good to you, Toris?"

"Sure."

Arthur slipped the DVD into the player, hiding his blush as he remembered why the movie sounded familiar. Alfred had suggested it to him. It seemed the American would get his wish after all, even if he didn't realize it.

They had barely made it past the credits before Arthur started up a snarky commentary. If Alfred didn't know that Arthur was studying English, he would have suspected that the student planned to go into critical film studies. He noted every plot hole and critiqued the dialogue. Alfred laughed, finding Arthur's comments almost as enjoyable as the movie itself. He was glad he had decided to skip the party and find his RA. After Arthur's night of drinking, Alfred had started to develop a soft spot for the older student. Even though they had a bad start to the semester (mostly, Alfred admitted, due to his own tendency to be loud and brash), he hoped they could be friends for the rest of the year.

Near the middle of the movie, Arthur's comments trailed off. Alfred wondered if he was finally starting to get caught up in the plot, but a quick glance over showed that he was actually just beginning to fall asleep. Alfred smiled and scooched a little closer so Arthur could use his shoulder as a pillow.

* * *

_To: Matthew Williams_  
_From: Alfred "Freeeeedom!" Jones_  
_Date: Saturday, November 29, 12:41am_

_Hope you're having as good a time with your dorm as I am :)_

_[Picture of Arthur sleeping on Alfred's shoulder]_

_See you tomorrow on the slopes!_

* * *

Arthur woke up as dim early morning light filled the room, confused as to why he was sleeping on a couch instead of in his dorm bed. His eyes widened and he came fully awake as he noticed the arm loosely draped around his waist. There was someone sleeping with him. A warm body next to him and steady breathing near his ear. Arthur turned his head slowly so he could see who he was sleeping with.

Oh god, it was the worst-case scenario. It was Alfred.

Realizing he must have fallen asleep while watching the movie, Arthur disentangled himself from the couch cushions, taking care not to rouse Alfred. His mind buzzed with worry as he considered the two options. Either Alfred would be upset that they had ended up sharing a couch or he wouldn't mind (for reasons Arthur didn't dare to contemplate), and Arthur honestly wasn't sure which option was worse. He tiptoed past slumbering students on his way to the kitchen.

Endless scenarios where he lost his RA job and had to face the Dean of Students for his unprofessional conduct ran through Arthur's mind as he prepared his morning cup of tea. The panic slowly subsided as he finished it, grateful as always for the brew's calming effect. There hadn't been enough sofas or beds in the rented ski lodge so he and a student had shared. It was completely innocent, he reassured himself.

As morning sunlight filled the room, undergrads swarmed the kitchen, nursing hangovers and gulping down coffee to make up for a lack of sleep. Alfred didn't even wake up until it was nearly time to leave, saving Arthur from an awkward conversation.

Arthur herded the students onto the bus with crisp commands, staying as far away from Alfred as possible. Even from a distance he could still hear the sophomore's excitement. "Whoo, snowboarding!" Alfred cheered.

"Listen up," Arthur announced from the front of the bus once they reached the slopes. "Everyone needs to be back to the bus by quarter 'til four. We are leaving exactly at four. I don't want any stragglers!"

Once Arthur finished his announcement, the students eagerly piled out of the bus, buzzing with excitement. Even Arthur found himself dazzled by the lovely snow and countryside as he walked toward the ski areas. Thanksgiving wasn't a popular weekend for skiing, so the students had the slopes almost to themselves.

Since Arthur was renting skis and sticking to the bunny hills, he soon lost track of Alfred, which was probably for the best. Instead of thinking about the confusing young man, he focused on the perfect powder underneath his skis and the gorgeous clear blue skies overhead. The mountain air was crisp and beautiful, smelling slightly of pine. It was easy to think only of the beautiful scenery and the exhilarating feeling of the air as it whooshed past his face. Despite the cold temperature, he felt pleasantly warm from the effort and thoroughly relished the peace and calm as he glided down the slopes.

By mid-afternoon, Arthur decided that he was finished for the day. He warmed up at the base of the slope with a mug of overpriced hot cocoa. The outside patio gave him an excellent view of the activity on the slopes and lifts from the comfort of his heated bench. Most of his residents had finished skiing or snowboarding for the day, and he could hear them chattering nearby. The happy murmurs didn't contain any loud shouts or boisterous laughs, so he could only assume that Alfred was still on the slopes.

As that thought occurred to Arthur, he noticed two snowboarders racing at high speeds, skillfully cutting their way around the slower skiers. Judging by his patriotic outfit, the one on the right was Alfred. But Arthur frowned when he realized that the snowboarders weren't slowing down as they approached the base of the slope. The two kept coming, faster and faster. Alfred built up increasing speed, lost control, and did three full cartwheels before plunging into the snow bank.

Arthur jumped to his feet and ran to the young man's side before he had a chance for conscious thought. He focused on pushing his way through the snow as quickly as he could. The sight of Alfred lying still on the ground filled his vision. Arthur dropped to his knees next to the young man and breathed a sigh of relief when two sparkling blue eyes blinked back at him. Alfred gave him a dopey smile. "Hey, you think that'd be more fun with mattresses?"

"No, I think you're going to kill yourself," Arthur grumbled, hiding his relief.

"Yeah, but it was awesome though. I wanna do that again!" Alfred said enthusiastically as he climbed to his feet. "See, Mattie, I told ya I'd win the race!"

Arthur was worried that Alfred had hit his head so hard that he was talking to invisible people, until he turned around and saw that the other snowboarder had arrived behind him. The young man looked like a quieter, more sensible version of Alfred. He quickly proved it by giving Alfred a soft smile and suggesting that they warm up with hot cocoa instead of racing down the hill again.

Warm drinks in hand, the two joined Arthur at his table. Alfred introduced his cousin Matthew and then loudly recounted their day of snowboarding adventures. It started with their voyage up to the steepest, hardest slope, and ended with a lost animal.

"...I thought it was a bear! But it was actually a big, fluffy dog, so Mattie and me took him to the lost and found and returned him to his owner," Alfred finished.

"And I," Arthur corrected automatically.

"And you what?" Alfred asked, tilting his head to the side quizzically.

"He's correcting your grammar," Matthew explained.

"Ah, but my grammar don't need no fixing!"

Arthur's eyebrow twitched at the double negative. "That statement is true only in its most literal sense," he replied dryly.

Matthew hid a smile behind his mug as Arthur and Alfred continued to bicker and swap petty insults. They were both so focused on each other that they barely noticed his presence. And they certainly didn't notice the time. "Al, didn't you say your bus was leaving at 4pm?" Matthew finally asked.

"Yeah? What time is it now?" Alfred asked.

"4:04! We're late!" Arthur panicked as he glanced down at his watch. He jumped out of his seat and grabbed Alfred by the arm, tugging him toward the door.

"Bye, Mattie!" Alfred called.

"It was lovely to meet you," Arthur added from the doorway as the two began sprinting to the bus stop. Even a tardy gentleman had to remember his manners.

They arrived at the chartered bus five minutes later, both panting for breath as they waved at the driver to let them on. Stepping inside, Arthur felt all of the eyes on the bus turn toward him. He tried not to blush in embarrassment, ashamed at his tardiness.

Alfred pushed past and gave him a pouting look. "Geez, just cuz I was ten minutes late doesn't mean you had to come yell at me! I was going to show up eventually."

"Is that everyone?" the bus driver asked Arthur.

"Hmm? Yes, yes, we can go now," Arthur replied, still surprised that Alfred had lied on his behalf, making the other students think that Arthur was only late because he had gone to fetch Alfred.

As the bus started to move, Arthur hurriedly found a seat. Of course, because the two were the last to arrive, the only spot left was the seat next to Alfred. The American gave him a wink and nudged his shoulder. "See? The perk of being late is that you get to sit next to me."

"Oh, joy," Arthur deadpanned.

"Don't worry. I'm planning to sleep most of the way anyway." Alfred grinned at him. "Good thing you're such a comfy pillow."

"I'm not your pillow," Arthur protested, his cheeks bright red. It was bad enough being attracted to Alfred when he was incredibly annoying. It was far worse being attracted to him when the young man decided to be affectionate.

True to his word, the American slept most of the way, his blond head resting on Arthur's shoulder. He looked sweet and peaceful in his sleep. It was getting harder and harder for Arthur to remember why it was such a bad idea to date his resident.

There was only one solution. He would have to ask for a transfer to a different dorm.

* * *

_To: Office of the Dean of Students_  
_From: Arthur Kirkland_  
_Date: Tuesday, December 2, 9:01am_

_I'll have the room completely empty by the end of finals week._

_Thank you again for all of your assistance arranging the transfer._

_Sincerely,_

_Arthur Kirkland_

* * *

Arthur had finished folding his socks when he heard the loud, cheerful whistling coming down the hallway. The whistling could mean only one thing. Alfred was approaching, and he had most likely finished his finals. Arthur wasn't ready for a conversation with Alfred, so he hoped that the American kept walking and decided to play video games instead of bothering his RA.

His hopes were in vain. Alfred's footsteps paused outside Arthur's door. "Whoa, Artie, going on a super long trip?" he asked, loudly as usual.

"I'm transferring to a different dorm," Arthur explained from his position amidst the many boxes as he continued folding his trousers and placing them in a suitcase on his bed. He had already packed up his school supplies, toiletries, and tea collection. All that was left was his clothing.

"What!?" Alfred sounded shocked. "Wait… are you leaving because of me?" he asked.

Arthur refused to turn around and look at him. He didn't want to see Alfred's puppy-eyes expression. "No, it's not you," he insisted. "Don't worry, I'm sure my replacement will be much more lax about the rules."

"Probably laxer about grammar too," Alfred said, although his heart didn't sound in it. He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. "Look, I didn't want to chase you away," he said. "I thought we were having fun."

Arthur kept packing. "Really, it isn't about you."

"So why _are_ you leaving?"

"Ah, there was another RA who wanted to swap dorms," Arthur said, half-truthfully. "She was starting to fancy one of her residents, and she wanted to leave before it got out of hand." He understood her frustration, but he was actually grateful that another RA had been in the same position as him. It made it easy to simply swap dorms.

"I don't get it. What's so bad about a student dating an RA?"

Arthur finally stopped folding when he felt a warm hand come to rest on his shoulder. He turned around, although he avoided looking into Alfred's eyes. "It's completely against the rules," he explained, working hard to remind himself why it was such a bad idea when Alfred was standing so close, his body as devastatingly handsome as always. "The other students could make accusations of favoritism. And what happens if the relationship goes bad? It would poison the atmosphere in the dorm."

"Well, I still think it sucks," Alfred complained. "You didn't do anything wrong." He looked like he was going to say something more, but he shook his head and looked around the room. "Need any help carrying boxes?"

"If you don't mind…" Arthur felt grateful for the assistance, even if it was awkward to watch the reason why he was transferring to a different dorm help him move out. Alfred made short work of the boxes and suitcases, carrying them down to the ground floor and stuffing them in Arthur's car like they weighed nothing. Sooner then he expected, Arthur found his room to be completely empty. It was only then that he noticed a bottle and piece of cloth hiding under the bed. Alfred saw it at the same time.

"Hey, looks like you missed something," he said, as he bent down and grabbed the items. A moment later, a flash of recognition crossed his face. "My rum! And there's still some left! Oh man, I thought you'd drunk it all." He grinned up at Arthur. "Guess it takes less to get you completely shit-faced than I thought."

"What?" Arthur felt his face go hot and then cold as he tried to remember when Alfred would have seen him drunk. The only time he drank in the dorm was the night after their Halloween tryst… the blood drained from Arthur's face when Alfred set down the rum and started examining the white fabric.

"Is this a toga?" He held out the costume and examined its length. "Pretty skimpy, though, wouldn't go much past your upper thighs…"

Despite insulting Alfred's intelligence on a regular basis, Arthur knew that the young man was not an idiot, just a little oblivious to the world around him. He could tell the exact moment when Alfred connected the puzzle pieces based on the way Alfred's eyes widened in shock.

"I think I have something that belongs to you," Alfred said, frowning as he disappeared from the room.

Arthur sat down heavily on the bare mattress and took a swig of the rum. He wondered briefly if he could get drunk in the two minutes it would take for Alfred to go to his own room and back. Despite his low tolerance, it seemed unlikely. He was still trying to sort through his jumbled thoughts and feelings when Alfred returned with a pair of wings, which he set on the desk. He plopped down next to Arthur and took a swig of rum himself, grabbing the bottle from Arthur's unresisting fingers. He set the now-empty bottle onto the desk with a thump that sounded loud in the otherwise silent room.

"It's weird. I thought my RA was a jerk, then I realized you were actually nice. But I thought my one-night stand was nice until he was a jerk. So which is it, Arthur?"

"Both, I suppose. I'm sorry for lying. I was planning to tell you after I moved out." Arthur stared at his hands as he nervously rubbed them together in his lap. He looked up in surprise when Alfred reached over and covered Arthur's hands with his own.

"Hey, it's okay. It's not like I've been an angel either." Alfred gave him a fond smile, and then the American leaned forward and kissed him.

For a brief moment, Arthur didn't know how to react to the gentle lips pressing against his own. The sensation was a surprise, but so very pleasant. Lost in the sweet sensation, Arthur kissed back eagerly, trying to fit months of longing into hungry open-mouth kisses. Alfred's hands were soon running through his hair as Arthur wrapped his arms around Alfred's neck, pulling the young man closer as he tried to memorize every line of his lips.

It was only when Arthur felt his back press against the bed that he returned to reality. "Wait," he said. Still breathing heavily, Arthur was both grateful and disappointed as he felt Alfred's warm body pull away.

Alfred blinked from behind glasses that were hanging on by only one ear. "Yeah, you probably should break up with your boyfriend first," he said with a sigh, running his hand through hair that was adorably mussed up.

"What boyfriend?" Arthur asked, his eyebrows knitted in confusion. It felt too hard to think with the warm rum sloshing around in his stomach and the pleasant memory of Alfred's hands running over his body.

Alfred frowned. "The one you mentioned in your email? The one who's—oh wow, hey there, this is awkward—standing in the doorway."

"What?" Arthur jolted up from the bed and blushed to find Kiku staring at them. He had forgotten that Kiku was coming to help him pack. Arthur was normally good at keeping track of the time, but Alfred could be very distracting.

"Well, at least you can break up with him in person," Alfred suggested.

Kiku also looked confused. "I'm not dating Arthur-san."

"Why would you think…? It's not… Oh." Arthur's eyes widened as he remembered the email. He sighed. "Alfred, I was lying about having a boyfriend because I didn't want you to try to find me."

Alfred's brow wrinkled in confusion. "Seriously? You'd rather lie about cheating on a boyfriend than get in trouble for dating a resident?"

"Yes. I know it sounds bad. But only one of those things can result in the loss of my salary and housing subsidy."

Kiku cleared his throat, reminding the two of his presence. "I'm glad you found the wings, Arthur-san," he said softly, "but should I come back later?"

Alfred grinned. "Yeah, that'd probably be a good idea."

They locked the door this time and resumed their kisses and caresses. Arthur felt a fire building in his stomach. He tried to bank it. "We shouldn't," he said, reminding himself that Alfred was off-limits until the end of the semester. "I'm still your RA."

"Do you know how hot it makes me when you say it's against the rules, _bunny_?" Alfred asked with a chuckle, his husky voice sending a pleasant tingle down Arthur's spine.

Arthur didn't even complain about the ridiculous pet name before he started kissing Alfred again. When Alfred returned the kisses, Arthur's eyes fluttered shut, his only response breathless moans as Alfred attacked his neck with love-bites. Fueled by the satisfying warmth, he reached an internal decision. If boffing Alfred was wrong, Arthur didn't want to be right. He rolled over and pinned the surprised American to the bed. "I'm pretty sure that having it off in the shower stall is doubly against the rules," the Englishman purred.

Alfred grinned. "I don't know what that means, but I like the sound of it!"

Taking off their clothes was just another chance to lick and kiss and touch more flesh. Arthur's jumper landed on the desk while Alfred's jeans slipped to the floor. Still kissing, they stumbled into Arthur's private bathroom and bumped against the sink. They dropped the final pieces of clothing onto the bathroom floor and squeezed into the narrow shower stall. Alfred's breath felt warm and heavy against Arthur's ear.

"Lube?" he asked.

"Packed away," Arthur panted.

Undeterred, Alfred pressed Arthur against the wall, making Arthur gasp in pleasure as he thrust his cock into the narrow gap between Arthur's thighs. Alfred reached his hand around, grabbing and pumping Arthur's cock as he built up a furious pace. Their soft moans echoed in the shower stall, soon reaching a gasped crescendo.

"Ah, Alfred!" Arthur saw stars as his knees turned to jelly. He felt utterly spent and pleasantly exhausted. He would have sunk to the floor if not for the strong arm wrapped around his waist and the weight of the body pressing him against the tile wall. A moment later, he felt Alfred finish, leaving a sticky mess between Arthur's thighs.

They showered in a post-orgasmic blur, and Arthur was still smiling when he pulled on his clothes. Alfred grinned back at him. "See, breaking the rules feels good, don't it?"

"Mmm. I think it was the sex actually," Arthur replied. "But I suppose the only way to know for sure would be to do it again after the term ends."

"Is this your way of asking me on a date after Christmas?"

"I suppose it is."

Alfred's smile lit up the room.

* * *

_To: Arthur Kirkland_  
_From: Alfred "Freeeeedom!" Jones_  
_Date: Tuesday, April 22, 3:04pm_

_Hey babe, you free after class tomorrow? ;)_

* * *

Arthur bolted out of his 18th century poetry class on his rush back to his new dorm. He liked his new room and his new residents. And he _definitely_ liked his new boyfriend. Alfred had promised him an "awesome present" for his birthday and Arthur wasn't sure whether to be excited or apprehensive. He settled on a mixture of both.

He hurried up to his room and wasn't the least bit surprised to open the door and find Alfred lounging on his bed, completely naked. His crotch was strategically hidden behind a wrapped package.

"Happy Birthday," Alfred said with a wink and a grin.

Arthur took a moment to soak up the sight, enjoying the muscles stretching from Alfred's well-defined arms, to his six-pack abs, to his strong thighs. Alfred had been a destructive ball of energy back in their old dorm, but now Arthur considered his boyfriend a seductive ball of energy. He much preferred their new arrangement.

"Don't you wanna open your present?" Alfred asked.

Arthur licked his lips and stepped closer. "Oh, yes. I'm going to do all sorts of wonderful things to my present, starting with licks and nibbles, and ending when I put the whole thing in my mouth and suck out the cream filling." He paused as he plucked the wrapped package from the bed. "You did get me chocolates, right?"

"Hey!" Alfred protested from the bed.

"Sorry love, you asked for that." Still chuckling to himself, Arthur unwrapped his birthday present. His expression softened as he saw what was inside. Instead of chocolates, he found a new nameplate. And this one said 'Resident Arsehole.'

"Do you like it? I spelled it properly and everything."

Arthur smiled. "You're still an arse."

"I know." Alfred grinned. "But I'm _your_ arse."

* * *

**THE END**

* * *

**Author's Notes**

Thank you again to my beta, Fire Bear1, for struggling valiantly against my typos.

You may wonder if Alfred and Arthur are watching the old Italian Job or the remake. The answer is: whichever one you prefer!

Happy early Birthday to Arthur Kirkland :)


	3. Omake: Mafia Night

**Omake: Mafia Night**

* * *

"Just one more..." Alfred's eyes lit up when he spotted Arthur passing through the dorm lounge. "Arthur, come here! We need you!"

"Shouldn't you be working on your CS project?" Arthur asked, although he let Alfred pull him over to the dorm's four couches, where a group of students had gathered together. The lovebirds―Matthew and Katyusha, Natalya and Toris―shared the largest couch. Francis lounged on the sofa across from them, clearly enjoying his position between Emma and Michelle. Antonio looked equally happy with cheerful Feliciano and grumpy Lovino sharing his couch. On the fourth and final couch Ivan sat alone as he kept a watchful eye on his sisters. Still unsure what the group planned to do, but unable to say no to his boyfriend, Arthur took the empty seat next to Ivan.

"Okay, we've got twelve now!" Alfred announced, grinning at the group. "So we'll have three mafia, one sheriff, one doctor, and seven townspeople."

"Why does it have to be the _mafia_?" Lovino complained, crossing his arms as he scowled at the others. "This game is racist."

"I think it's fun!" his equally-Italian brother disagreed.

"Come on, Lovi. Give it a try!" Antonio said encouragingly as he wrapped an arm around the blushing Lovino. Arthur rolled his eyes. Honestly, those two made him and Alfred look like an even-keeled couple. He turned back to look at his American boyfriend and watched in growing confusion as Alfred shuffled playing cards and dealt them out. The other students glanced at their own cards, making sure to keep them hidden from view.

"What exactly am I supposed to be doing?" Arthur asked, not sure what his card meant.

"You haven't played mafia before?!" Alfred's jaw dropped. "Oh man! It's so much fun! It's got two stages. During the night, everyone closes their eyes and the mafia pick a townsperson to kill. Then the sheriff picks one person, and I tell them if that person is mafia or not. The doctor gets to pick one person and save their life if they were chosen by the mafia. During the day, everyone opens their eyes. I tell you who died. You try to figure out who is mafia and if a majority votes against a person, they're eliminated from the game and show their card. Game ends when the mafia are all dead or they outnumber the townsfolk."

"We use cards to pick the roles," Matthew added. "King, Queen, and Jack are mafia. Ace is the sheriff, ten the doctor. Everyone else is a townsperson."

"That makes sense. Ten was always my favorite doctor," Arthur joked. He was grateful when Matthew chuckled in response. The sophomore had good taste in shows.

"And I'm the hero, 'cause I'm running the game!" Alfred added. When they were all ready, he had them close their eyes to start the 'night' phase. Arthur closed his eyes and concentrated on his strategy...

Alfred went through each group of players in turn. First, he had the three mafia players open their eyes and pick who to kill. When they finished, he asked the sheriff to pick one person. Alfred nodded yes if that person was in the mafia and shook his head no if they weren't. Finally, the doctor picked one person to save. If that person had been targeted by the mafia they would miraculously survive the attack. Alfred kept his voice directed at the center of the room so he wouldn't give clues to the other players.

Five minutes later, they started the first 'day' phase. Alfred faked a sniffle. "Last night, my dear cousin went for a walk with his pet bear. The bear smelled honey mead and led him straight to a bootlegging operation. Unfortunately, the mafia couldn't let him leave... or live. I regret to announce that Matthew was killed by the mafia during the night. Sorry, Mattie."

Matthew sighed and shrugged. "Maybe it's better to be forgotten," he mumbled under his breath as he leaned back against the sofa. The first one kicked out of the game was the least interesting, but at least he could watch what happened next.

Arthur decided to jump straight to accusations. "I accuse Francis," he said.

"_Moi_?" Francis reacted with indignation. "Pourquoi?"

"Because you are a frog and frogs are slimy. QED."

"But what sort of motive would Francis have?" Toris asked sensibly. "We should think about who would have a grudge against Matthew."

All eyes turned to Ivan. "Me?" he said innocently, giving them a frightening smile.

"Looks like we have an accusation against Ivan!" Alfred announced a little too cheerfully. "Who's going to vote to eliminate him?" The answer was everyone except for his sisters. Natalya glared daggers at them all (including her boyfriend) while Alfred gleefully tallied the votes and announced Ivan's elimination. The sad Russian flipped over a card, revealing that he was a townsperson after all.

Toris was the next to die during the night. The group turned their suspicious eyes on Natalya, who loudly proclaimed her own innocence. "Just because he doesn't like my dear brother doesn't mean I would kill him."

"Yeah, I don't think we should be so hasty," Michelle agreed. "We were wrong about Ivan. Maybe the mafia is trying to frame Nat."

"Oh yeah? Well maybe you're protecting her because you're mafia," Lovino grumbled from his position on the couch squashed between Antonio and Feliciano. He looked even more angry compared to the cheerful expressions of his seatmates.

"I still say it's Francis," Arthur said, not that anyone paid him much attention.

Michelle pointed her finger at Lovino. "I accuse Lovi of being in the mafia!"

Everyone gasped while Lovino swore, "_Che cazzo_?! _Ti ammazzo_!"

Feliciano's smile dimmed slightly as he translated for the group. "Uh, brother? They might believe you more if you weren't threatening to _kill_ people." Despite Feliciano and Antonio's protests of the Italian's innocence, the townsfolk chose to eliminate Lovino that turn. Lovino revealed his card with a scowl. He was a townsperson after all.

"_Bastardos_, I told you I wasn't in the mafia! Not even the real one!"

After another 'night' passed, Alfred's eyes glittered with excitement. "Antonio covered his whole bed in tomatoes last night, but it wasn't enough to make up for his loss. Overcome with sadness after the death of his dearest Lovi, Antonio passed away during the night. Or perhaps it was murder! Townsfolk, you are in the critical round: there are three mafia and only four townspeople left. If you get it wrong this time, the game is over and the mafia wins."

Emma and Katyusha shared a nervous glance. Francis and Natalya eyed each other warily. Feliciano looked as cheerfully oblivious as always.

Arthur caught Michelle giving him a smug glance and realized he had to act fast to protect himself. "I'm the sheriff," he announced to the group, "and I can say with certainty that Francis is in the mafia."

Francis glared. "You're such a _liar_, Arthur. I am innocent."

"And you're not the sheriff,_ I_ am. You're mafia," Michelle accused.

"Poppycock," Arthur retorted. "I've been trying to eliminate Francis since the first night because I checked him and I can state with certainty that he is in the mafia."

"Sorry 'chelle, I think Arthur's telling the truth. Francis_ is_ the first person he would check," Emma noted sensibly. "And he's been going after him this whole time."

"I don't believe him," Natalya said with her arms crossed.

"Ve, can't we all just get along?" Feliciano asked plaintively.

The votes were close, but in the end, Francis was the one eliminated. Arthur grinned as the Frenchman flipped over his card, revealing a King of Diamonds.

"The townspeople survive another round!" Alfred announced dramatically. "But who will be the next to die tonight...?"

The answer was Katyusha.

"I will avenge my sister!" Natalya promised, creeping out everyone.

"Doesn't anyone else think it's suspicious that the mafia didn't kill Arthur?" Michelle said logically. "I mean, if he's really the sheriff, he's a threat to them."

Arthur smirked. "Why don't _you_ tell me? My guess is that you picked poor Ekaterina because the doctor may still be alive and would have saved me."

After a long and tense discussion, Emma and Feliciano joined Arthur in voting to eliminate Michelle. She flipped over her card to reveal... that she was the sheriff.

"Looks like the mafia wins tonight!" Alfred shouted.

"What?" Emma gasped as Arthur showed her his Queen of Spades card and Feliciano flipped over his Jack of Hearts. "But you were right about Francis!"

Arthur grinned. "Of course I was. I saw him every night."

"You're not supposed to throw your fellow mafia under the bus," Francis grumbled.

"You were an acceptable sacrifice."

"So who was the doctor?" Michelle asked.

"That was me!" Antonio said cheerfully. "I saved Lovi every night."

Lovino looked pleased despite his angry scowl.

Although Arthur would have been willing to play another game, the group decided to call it quits for the night, returning to their rooms in groups of two or three. Alfred smiled at Arthur as they walked up together to Arthur's dorm room. "I knew you'd be good at mafia," Alfred said as he waited for Arthur to open the door.

"Oh?" Arthur arched an eyebrow. "Why's that?"

Alfred smiled. "It's the perfect game for arseholes."

* * *

_Just a quick omake to make up for the fact that I somehow forgot the most important part of the college experience. Mafia night! _XD_  
_


End file.
